


You Keep Me Steady

by a_velvet_blazer



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Kidnapping, M/M, Major Character Injury, but later, first whump, im sorry alex, theres gonna be a wedding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:02:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26727124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_velvet_blazer/pseuds/a_velvet_blazer
Summary: Henry was waiting for Alex to get back.  He was very aware of his fiance's penchant for staying in the library as long as he could, but normally Cash would drag him out around 11:30, getting him home to Henry by midnight.The analog clock on the wall read 1:27.Henry was trying not to worry.  Alex’s second to last semester was getting close to over, he knew Alex had already started on 2 papers and begun studying for 4 tests.  He was busy, and probably just buried under papers and precedent.Hearing the door unlocking, Henry stood up, ready to admonish Alex for being so late and making him worried.It’s not Alex, but rather Shaan.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 17
Kudos: 77





	You Keep Me Steady

**Author's Note:**

> so... 
> 
> i swear i love alex and henry and all of them and want them to live happily every after.
> 
> so for some reason i got THIS story stuck in my head. rip (it'll be a happy ending i promise)
> 
> TW/CW  
> vomit  
> homophobia  
> kidnapping/hostage  
> gun wound mention  
> visual of hostage (not to graphic)  
> description of injuries (not much blood tho)

Henry was waiting for Alex to get back. He was very aware of his fiancé's penchant for staying in the library as long as he could, but normally Cash would drag him out around 11:30, getting him home to Henry by midnight.

The analog clock on the wall read 1:23.

Henry was trying not to worry. He had talked himself out of calling three times already. Alex’s second to last semester was (almost) getting close to over and he knew Alex had already started on 2 papers and begun studying for 4 tests. He was busy, and probably just buried under papers and precedent. Henry thought this was overkill for mid October, but he just refilled Alex’s coffee and made sure he ate. He would call Alex at 1:30.

Hearing the door unlocking, Henry stood up, ready to admonish Alex for being so late and making him worried. He could almost hear Alex’s come back, some snarky remark about Henry acting like a damsel in distress or something. Then, since they both were up so late (which was not uncommon at all) that they should take it upstairs.

It’s not Alex, but rather Shaan. He’s on the phone, telling whoever’s on the other end of the line to “just hold on a second” as he sees Henry. 

“We’re going to D.C. sir, I’m going to pack you a bag.” Shaan’s accent curled around the words. “You should bring David, will you be able to pack his bag and get his carrier?” Before Henry can even respond, Shaan’s going up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Slightly stunned by the man’s curtness, Henry walks to the back of the brownstone, where they keep David’s stuff. 

Temporarily distracted by Shaan’s strange behavior, Henry doesn't think about where Alex is.

By the time he finished putting stuff together for David he hears Shaan coming down the stairs. Once Henry’s through the doorway, he see’s Shaan’s holding two weekender bags. Assuming one’s for Alex, Henry calls David, clips his leash on, and the three of them quietly get into the waiting suburban. 

“I’m going to need your phone, sir.” Shaan looks back from the front seat, holding out a hand.

“Shaan, what’s going on? Where’s Alex?”

“I can’t tell you. You will be debriefed when we get to D.C.” Shaan’s hand is waiting. Henry stares into the equerry’s eyes, looking for something, a clue, an emotion, some hint of what’s happening. 

Slowly, Henry, pulls his phone out of his pocket and places it in his head. Quietly, Shaan thanks him, and faces forward. He opens the phone and removes the sim card, before promptly breaking it.

“Shaan, what the fuck is happening? Where’s Alex? Did something happen to Ellen?”

He doesn’t have any more luck this time as Shaan repeats, “You will be debriefed when we get to D.C. You should try to sleep.”

Henry’s growing frustrated, not liking being kept out of the loop. At this point he was almost convinced something happened to Ellen and his fiancé's family was being kept at the White House for safety. 

That’s the only reasonable explanation, right?

Not long after the exchange, Henry nods off, petting David, whose head is in his lap.

Someone’s shaking his shoulder. Yawning, and stretching his arms, he opens his eyes and remembers the events of last night. 

He sees June with red rimmed eyes in sweats, watching him wake up. Yawning once more, he gently pets David, waking him up as well. Moving David off his lap, he steps out of the car, unfolding himself and stretching each leg. The drive from New York to D.C. is about 4 and a half hours. It’s not the worst drive, but it's not Henry’s favorite either (especially when he does it alone).

He hugs June right as he gets out of the car. He can feel her sobbing into his chest, and his heart hurts for her. Where is Alex? Shouldn’t he be with her? He’d just assumed he flew to D.C. to get here quicker. 

He keeps his arm around her as Secret Service agents herd them inside, where they meet…

Ellen. 

She meets them at the door, hugging June before Henry finds himself staring into her eyes. If you looked closely, you could see where her mascara clumped together from wet eyes, or the few stray pieces of hair that were coming out of the smart updo that was normally perfect. 

As she embraced him, he noticed she didn’t have heels on. Just sneakers. Alex told him once that she only wore heels when she had too. If the president’s before he could be in flats more of the day, the she sure as hell fucking could too (her words). 

After they all pulled away and started walking down the hallway when Henry finally spoke, his voice still a little raspy from sleep. “If you’re here,” Henry looked at Ellen, “Then what’s happening? Where Alex?” As his soon to be mother and sister in law looked at him, he continued, “Shaan wouldn’t tell me what’s happening. I assumed… I don’t know. I thought he flew here last night?”

June and Ellen shared a look that was suspiciously close to pity, before gently guiding Henry to a bench in the hall.

“Henry,” He noticed water welling up in her eyes, as she gulped and started again. “Henry, dear. Alex was- he was grabbed when he and Cash were leaving the library last night.”

Henry was confused. Grabbed like some weirdo touched him or grabbed in a more… daunting way. Ellen spoke up again, taking his hands in hers. He stops himself from gasping at how cold they are.

“He was kidnapped. And we can’t find him.” Ellen’s squeezing his hands at this point and Henry sees the tears threatening to fall.

“Wha- no, maybe he- or- he can’t be...” Henry wracked his brain, trying to think of another- or _any_ alternative explanation.

The president shakes her head. “I got a call from his phone late last night, it uh- it wasn’t him, it was someone else saying they had him and they would call again at 8:30 this uh- this morning.” She uses her fingers to dap at her eyes, taking a deep breath and looking up to keep the tears invisible. Henry can feel his eyes burning but for some reason no tears have fallen yet. He wants them too. He wants to sob and yell and throw up. 

Ellen takes a shaky breath and closes her eyes before she finishes, voice barely louder than a whisper. “They said-” *hiccup* “If anyone followed them, they’d hurt him more.” Her voice breaks as she says that, but quickly composes herself, standing up and turning to see June and Henry. “I’m going to the Oval, will you join me when you’re ready? Oscar will get here around 8. Y’all can wait in there while Oscar and I are on the call in the Sit Room?” They both nod. Ellen cups June’s cheek and wipes one of the tears away, then she’s off, and the President of the United States is walking down the hallway, rather than his future mother-in-law. 

Henry all but collapses into June, finally able to cry. June’s crying too, Henry feels his shoulder getting wet but he can’t imagine caring about it. He’s still in his clothes from yesterday, never changing before Shaan whisked him off. He’s got dog hair in his lap from where David fell asleep, and he’s sure his shirt is more wrinkled than his Gran. It’s such a small, unimportant thing but Henry can’t stay in these clothes any longer. Alex chose the shirt he’s wearing, and the socks he has on were a gag gift from Alex. It’s too much. 

He’s gonna throw up. 

June must be able to tell, because she’s up and pulling Henry behind her before shoving him in a door. Henry finds the toilet just in time. Last night’s dinner (which he was _supposed_ to eat with Alex) burns through his throat. June’s patting his back. 

It was always at the back of his mind, that something like this could happen, but being in New York made this seem farther away, like it couldn’t touch them. Apparently it could. 

When he’s finished, June walks with him up to the Residence. He feels bad, she’s supporting him (literally, his legs feel like they’re about to give out) when her brother is missing. He knows that if it were Bea, he would be helpless.

They stop, outside of Alex’s room, almost like they’re waiting for him to open the door. Both of them just stare at it until Henry raises a shaking hand and twists the door knob. 

David lifts his head on the other side of the room, and runs to Henry, whining at his feet. Taking a shaky breath, Henry assures June he’ll be okay and will be downstairs in time for the call.

“You don’t have to come, you know? It’s uh- it’ll be a lot.”

“Are you going?” June nods. “Then I’m going.” Picking up David, he adds, “He can come too to help out.”

June lets out a watery laugh, “Okay, see you there.”

Henry faces the room again. There’s something that’s stopping him from entering. Maybe it’s all the memories packed in. The memory of the turkeys and Alex falling on his arse. The memory of their first time. The many, many late night FaceTimes and selfies that made something in Henry ache.

It was something he couldn’t have, and he got it.

Now it’s been ripped away again, just after Alex agreed to be his forever.

The proposal was euphoric, terrifying, electrifying. It wasn’t a big grand affair or very public. No, in fact, it was very private and quite honestly, a little boring. They had been lounging on the couch on a rare day off, petting David and watching Netflix. Henry had written a letter to Alex and read it to him. It was simple. Their love was complex and tangled so deep in their lives and minds, Henry thought if he tried to propose lavishly and extravagantly, it still wouldn’t do them justice. So he opted for the simple option he knew: words. They both had tears in their eyes, and Alex’s lips were on his the second he asked the question. 

“Of fucking course I’ll marry you, baby,” he said with one of the widest smiles Henry had ever seen on him. And that was saying something. 

Of course, their wedding, on the other hand, was going to be the biggest, gayest event of the millennia. They had both agreed to that rather quickly. Well, Alex wanted that and Henry wanted whatever Alex did. But he wouldn’t mind forcing Pip and Gran to smile while being at a Westminster with enough pride to challenge, well, Pride. (Did he and Alex also decide to get married in Pride month? Maybe.)

Henry takes a deep breath as he steps over the threshold of Alex’s room. It still smells like him, faintly, but Henry could pick that smell out of a candle store. It burns in Henry’s eyes as he moves over to the bed where his bags await. Upon opening them, he makes a mental note to hug Shaan when he can. His eyes are watery, which is pretty standard at this point. It hasn't been enough. He hasn't had enough of Alex telling him how much he loves it when Henry rolls his sleeves up or is teasing Henry for being a hopeless cook or snuggling with him in the morning, pressing kisses into his chest. Because he was the Prince with his heart outside his chest, and someone bloody ripped it away.

He hasn't told him he love him enough. Not even close.

There, at the top of the bag, is Alex’s NYU Law sweatshirt. Henry strips off what he’s wearing, tossing it in the corner with half a mind to burn it. Not the socks though, the socks stay on. He puts on a T-shirt and some sweats, completing the look with the sweatshirt. The sleeves extend far past his fingertips and it rivals the length of some of Bea’s dresses, but it’s Alex, this will have to do for the moment. 

At one point Henry flops onto the bed after checking the time and seeing there’s still an hour before Oscar arrives. David follows his lead, jumping on the bed and laying down right by Henry’s face. Eventually he starts licking away at the tears that are falling. He can’t bring himself to laugh, but a small smile makes it way to the surface. They stay that way for the better part of the hour. 

Finally, Henry peels himself off the bed and washes his face. He contemplates changing into something “presentable”, but decides against it almost immediately. He calls David over and the two of them make their way to the Oval Office.

June’s there when he arrives, curled in a ball next to her mom on the couch. Henry’s silent, not wanting to disturb the moment. 

Oscar arrives and puts a hand on his shoulder a few minutes later, pulling him into a hug. Entering the room, he hugs June and Ellen too, each hug lasting longer than the last. Taking a seat on the opposite couch with Ellen, as Henry sits next to June (with David between them), Ellen explains again what they know so far. Oscar’s nodding along, frown getting deeper as they go.

“What about Cash? Did he see anything?” Henry perks up, feeling bad for forgetting about Cash, but maybe he knows something?

Shaking her head, Ellen explains, “He was shot during the kidnapping.” Her voice strains when she says the word. “He’s in the ICU at a hospital in New York, and the doctor’s think he’ll be fine, but he was down before he saw anything or could call for backup.”

Deflating, Henry hangs his head. He thought maybe it was a light in the darkness, but it was quickly snuffed. 

Before they know it it’s 8:20 and Ellen and Oscar are whisked out of the room. Henry and June are left alone with David and their thoughts. 

\-----

Ellen was dreading the call.

She _knew_ , as President, what the answer was, what it _had_ to be.

The United States does not negotiate with terrorists.

But god fucking dammit, they had her son and she would give her own life for him to come home. 

And as much as it hurt, she couldn’t do that. Alex was always more understanding about the pressures of the job. And she wants to believe that he would be okay with her doing whatever she had to do to get him back. But she was the first female president of the United States and she’s heard him say it, that he doesn’t want to be responsible for her blowing it.

Which is ironic given a certain someone’s involvement in a transatlantic international political sex scandal.

Fuck.

She couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ let them win. She had to get him back. He was her baby.

Oscar follows her into the Sit Room, with screens displayed and lots of government officials on the phone. The noise dies down as she enters the room, moving to the head of the table. 

“Let’s find these sons of bitches and get Alex home.” Looking around to each of them, her voice breaks during what she says next. “Please, I beg of y’all.”

The call itself feels much longer than it is. She has to keep him talking, giving them time to trace it. The first thing to do is get proof of life (even if it makes her sick to her stomach). It’s a video call, so she sees a (hopefully) sleeping Alex on the floor, curled up. The one who’s holding the phone uses his foot to startle him. He wakes up, curling up tighter and sucking in a breath. 

For a second she can see his whole body. He still has on what she assumes he wore to school yesterday, although there are some tears and dirt that's probably new. He’s no longer wearing shoes and his socks are dirty. One of his ankles is worryingly swollen too.

“Alex, sweetie?” She can hear him breathing from where the phone is being held. It sounds painful; long breaths, quick inhales, a suspicious wheezing sound.

“Mom?” He uncurls a little bit and winces. “Mami, duele mucho. Quiero ir, por favor.” His voice is small and breaking, hard to hear over the phone, but she can see tear tracks glinting on his cheeks.

“Sé bebé, te llevaremos a casa. Just hold tight for me, okay?”

She doesn’t get a response. Instead she’s looking at the ugly face of the guy in charge again.

She keeps him talking, listening to his demands. A small part of her had hoped it would be money. Sure, she couldn’t pay it, but she had no control over what the prince of another country could do. Maybe it’s wrong, but she just wants Alex to hold him and stroke his curly hair and tell him it’s all over now. 

It’s not money.

No, the man wants her to pardon a killer, on all accounts. And, if that wasn’t enough, all of his victims were LGBTQ+. If she does, he'll tell them where to find Alex "if he's still alive by then."

She can’t cry. She feels Oscar’s hand on her shoulder as the man tells her she has 12 hours or “we’ll see how long he lasts with a bullet in his belly,” and hangs up.

She does throw up this time, into the nearest garbage can. 

**Author's Note:**

> *I took Spanish in 8th grade(a while ago), any thing i use is a result of that + SpanishDict please don't @ me out, although constructive criticism is very appreciated :)*
> 
> Mami, duele mucho. Quiero ir, por favor. == Mom, it hurts a lot. I want to go, please  
> Sé bebé, te llevaremos a casa == I know baby, we'll bring you home
> 
> I like this story and will try to be good about updating but feel free to find me on tumblr and bother me about it  
> @velvet-blazer
> 
> disclaimer: i get validation from comments (pls love me uwu)
> 
> (legit disclaimer: not my characters)


End file.
